TRBDM -Chapter 209 The Whereabouts of the Last Will

Time ticked away, and the longer it dragged on, the greater Zhao Jingyan’s chances became.

At the same time, the Crown Prince’s situation grew increasingly dire.

Zhao Jingheng stood alone, hidden among the many princes, his brows tightly furrowed.

When the snipe and clam fight, the fisherman profits—but only if the fisherman survives to the end.

All sides were at a standstill, and the tension was at its peak.

“The eldest Princess has arrived!”

The moment the solemn announcement rang out, everyone present changed their expressions.

All automatically stepped aside; some didn’t even dare to raise their heads, retreating further back.

Zhao Lingchen lifted her chin, looking down on everyone, giving no one even a single glance.

The reactions of those present varied.

Zhao Jingxuan let out a long breath, feeling that support had finally arrived.

The Noble Consort stopped feigning tears in frustration.

The other princes who had been causing trouble also dared not speak.

The Empress hurriedly forced herself to shed a single tear, approaching Zhao Lingchen and saying, “Lingchen, you’ve finally come.”

“Your Majesty, the Empress,” Zhao Lingchen acknowledged her with a glance.

The Empress’s tears immediately streamed down her face, grief-stricken: “Lingchen, the Emperor passed away suddenly, yet the Third Prince has surrounded the Taihe Hall, preventing us from seeing him. It shows clearly his malicious intentions.”

The Noble Consort was not to be outdone: “Your Majesty, do not slander my son. There must be a reason why he sealed Taihe Hall.”

“What reason that even the current Crown Prince cannot know? I call it wild ambition.”

“You… hmph. I will not oppose the Empress. Let everything wait until my elder brothers enter the palace.”

The Noble Consort was adept at using her own brother to pressure the Empress.

They volleyed words back and forth, sharp as knives, quarreling like market street shrews, completely ignoring that Zhao Kuang had just died.

Zhao Lingchen cast them a cold glance, then looked away in disdain.

She approached the Imperial Guards and said only two words: “Step aside.”

The guard captain hesitated for a moment. Zhao Lingchen calmly produced the military token. The moment the captain saw it, he no longer dared hesitate and immediately stepped back three paces, clearing a path.

Zhao Lingchen strode inside. Seeing this, the Empress stopped arguing and hurriedly followed with the Crown Prince.

The Noble Consort, unwilling to be outdone, also followed.

The others exchanged glances, and once they realized what was happening, all of them followed as well.

After nearly half an hour, the doors of Taihe Hall, long kept closed, finally opened. From inside came sounds of grieving wails.

“Father! Don’t go, Father! Your son has been unfilial and could not keep you!”

Zhao Jingyan knelt before the dragon bed, pressing himself against Zhao Kuang and crying out loud.

Once everyone entered, the wailing escalated, piercing the ears and moving hearts to tears.

“Your Majesty—”

“Father—”

“Father—”

One wave of sobbing followed another. The hall was filled with kneeling figures.

The only one standing was Zhao Lingchen.

She walked through the crowd and came to the dragon bed, lowering her gaze.

Zhao Kuang’s features were sunken, his face grayish-blue. He was indeed dead.

Zhao Lingchen could not call it sadness, nor could she call it satisfaction. Her emotions were complicated.

Fu Wei’s death was inseparable from Zhao Kuang, and the hatred in Zhao Lingchen’s heart would never vanish.

But after all, he was the emperor of the Dachong Dynasty, her biological father. The passing of an emperor could not leave her completely unmoved.

Zhao Lingchen knelt before the dragon bed and respectfully kowtowed: “Father, may you rest well.”

Zhao Jingyan’s siege of Taihe Hall was thwarted by Zhao Lingchen’s arrival.

Zhao Jingyan explained that he had surrounded Taihe Hall for fear that the Emperor might be harmed by malicious people.

Later, after investigation, it was confirmed that Zhao Kuang had died of illness, with no one having plotted against him.

No one believed his excuse.

But at this moment, it was not the time to pursue blame; the overall situation was paramount.

The emperor of the Dachong Dynasty had passed away. His body was laid in the Qianqing Palace, and the Crown Prince temporarily handled affairs of state.

The entire nation was in mourning: civil and military officials conducted business with blue seals for a hundred days, citizens refrained from shaving for a hundred days, and temples tolled their bells thirty thousand times.

Three days later, Zhao Lingchen, dressed in mourning attire, summoned Li Fuan.

“Your Highness, the Princess.”

In just a few days, Li Fuan had aged more than ten years. The wound on his forehead had scabbed over, but it was large and conspicuous.

On the night Zhao Kuang passed away, Zhao Jingyan had seized the opportunity to interrogate him for half an hour, but could not extract the whereabouts of the imperial will from Li Fuan.

During the emperor’s lying-in-state, the Third Prince faction’s pressure on him grew increasingly intense. Almost every half day, some high-ranking minister would come to persuade—or threaten—him.

The Crown Prince and Empress were also uneasy, constantly pressing for the will’s whereabouts.

Li Fuan had not spoken a single word.

Today, Zhao Lingchen summoned him for the first time.

“Li Gonggong, you have served the late Emperor faithfully for decades. At an age when you should be enjoying your retirement, you’ve been dragged into this whirlpool of succession struggles. I imagine your sleep these past few days has been restless.”

Zhao Lingchen’s words struck straight to Li Fuan’s heart.

Carrying such an important secret, countless people had wanted him dead—and he could not even count them all.

Three days ago, in the Taihe Hall, Zhao Jingyan had come for his life.

“Your Highness,” Li Fuan knelt and kowtowed, “please, save this servant.”

He knew that only Zhao Lingchen could protect him now.

“Since Li Gonggong has spoken, I naturally will agree. But there is one thing I want to know.”

Li Fuan understood perfectly that the only thing keeping him alive was the imperial will.

Before coming to see Zhao Lingchen, he had already made up his mind.

“Without hiding anything from Your Highness, this servant indeed knows where the imperial will is.”

Zhao Lingchen had anticipated this. Her expression remained calm: “The will… did it state that the throne should pass to the Crown Prince?”

“Yes.”

Indeed, Zhao Kuang had left a fallback for the Crown Prince.

Unfortunately, this will was destined never to see the light of day.

“Where is the will?”

“…” Li Fuan tightly closed his lips, unwilling to say another word.

A cunning old fox.

Zhao Lingchen rose and stepped in front of him.

Standing while he knelt, her figure loomed over his back.

“Either hand over the imperial will, or hand over your life. Choose one.”

By now, Li Fuan had no choice.

“The will is hidden in a secret compartment in the Emperor’s coffin during the lying-in-state.”

Even Zhao Lingchen was taken aback at this.

No wonder Zhao Jingyan had scoured the entire palace and could not find it.

Zhao Lingchen pondered for a long while before returning to her seat.

“Since the will is in the coffin, it will enter the imperial tomb along with the late Emperor.”

“Princess!” Li Fuan was shocked. “What do you mean by this?”

Li Fuan had assumed Zhao Lingchen would follow the will and support the Crown Prince’s ascension.

If the will were buried in the tomb, wouldn’t that give the Third Prince a legitimate reason to seize the throne?

“Princess, the Emperor had often told this servant before his passing that, for the sake of the realm, the Third Prince must not ascend.”

Zhao Lingchen glared at him: “Who said Zhao Jingyan is going to take the throne?”

“This…” Li Fuan was bewildered. “If not the Third Prince, then who?”

Zhao Lingchen spoke deliberately, word by word:

“Zhao—Jing—Heng.”

Li Fuan could not believe it. “Your… Your Highness?”

Zhao Lingchen let out a light laugh:

“Yes. Didn’t the late Emperor favor him greatly? You, as Chief Eunuch, should know this better than anyone.”

For the first time, Li Fuan experienced the feeling of being utterly unable to argue.

Precisely because he was the Chief Eunuch, he knew better than anyone that the Emperor had never truly respected Zhao Jingheng.

The so-called “favor” was merely using him as a pawn to mediate the conflicts between the Crown Prince and the Third Prince.

“Princess, perhaps there is some misunderstanding?” Li Fuan cautiously reminded her.

“Misunderstanding? No.”

Four words were enough.

Li Fuan slumped to the ground. He had never imagined that an unexpected player would appear midway and change everything.